Mysophobia
by Disney United
Summary: At a party celebrating Elsa becoming the head of the "Arendelle Company", Hans is approached by her friend, who had apparently noticed his odd behavior. The man introduces himself as Dr. Kristoff Bjorgman, before accusing Hans of having OCD and a severe case of Mysophobia! In spite of his denying those accusations, Hans finds himself drawn to the doctor... Slash & brief femslash
1. Chapter 1

The world was disgusting, to him. It was filled with disgusting people doing disgusting things, living their absolutely disgusting lives. He hated being around people, period, let alone masses of them...such as he currently was.

He managed to keep his face neutral, as his eyes narrowly observed the events happening around him:

People eating food from the spread on the banquet table.

People sharing food from said table.

People laughing and sneezing and coughing too close to each other.

People touching doorknobs.

And doors.

And chairs.

And plates and cups and silverware and the walls and their clothes and the windows and and their faces and _each other_.

The man swallowed thickly, his gloved hands (previously held loosely at his side) tightening into fists.

He felt sick.

Briefly, his eyes darted over to the public bathroom, which was not too far off from where he was standing in his secluded corner.

The doorknob.

The door.

The stall doors.

The stall lock.

The sink.

The faucet.

The soap.

The knob on the sink.

The paper towel dispenser.

His gloves.

The door.

The man squeezed his eyes shut briefly, his face showing only a little bit of the anxiety and displeasure he was feeling. He felt even sicker than he had before.

The world was so disgusting. People were so disgusting. The lives they lived were so disgusting.

As the man heard the laughter and joyous talking around him, he wondered how said people could not see the world as he did.

It was at times like that, when he was isolated and feeling like he was the only sane person in the world, that he questioned his sanity. His normality.

His problem.

Shortly after, however, he would shake his head, and the neutral expression he always wore would return.

After all, Hans wasn't the one with the problem. Right?

**_A/N I have literally been looking forward to writing this for a long time. You see, I read the manga "Ten Count", which is about a man with OCD and Mysophobia, or a fear of germs. It was really good (and a yaoi), so it inspired me to write a Mysophobic!Hans multichap. With slash. As in Kristoff/Hans. Wish me luck! Also, unlike "This is Ice", this shall have longer chapters. However, that means that they will most likely come slower, than say, a few chapters a day._**

**_If you have any fanfic ideas in any of the Disney-Pixar animated fandoms, feel free to request them at any time!_**

**_Thanks for reading and please review._**


	2. Chapter 2

When Hans woke up, he knew that that day would be as bad - if not worse - than any other day.

And it all began with the fact he had sweat during the night.

Immediately, he sat up, kicking his sheets off, and practically lunging from his bed, a disgusted look firmly planted on his face. He glared at his sheets in the darkness of his room, knowing that he would have to wash them that day, even though he had already washed them the previous day (and the day before that, and the day before that, and...).

He viciously yanked the sheets off his bed, allowing them to fall into a mess on the floor - that he would also have to clean that day. Stumbling about in the dark, he hefted the sheets up, and made his way from his room.

Hans owned a small apartment, in spite of the fact that his inheritance would probably allow him to own a small mansion. However, a small mansion would be a little much to clean on a daily basis.

Hans's apartment consisted of four rooms: The main room, his bedroom, his bathroom, and a storage room, where he kept his washing and drying machines, and his cleaning supplies. All the walls were either a dull light-grey color, or sterile white - the same going for his floors. His furniture, or lackthereof, was also done up in similar colors. Now while some people would feel as though they were trapped in an insane asylum of sorts, Hans felt remarkably comfortable.

After all, in spite of the dull colors, everything had a worn feel to it, from the constant scrubbing and abuse Hans laid onto it.

He stumbled through his main room, his bare feet slapping the tiles - another floor he would have to scrub that day - before he made it to his laundry room.

Upon dumping the sheets into the washing machine, and pouring in the appropriate liquids, he stripped off the tank top and boxers he always slept in, tossing them in as well. He slammed down the lid, hit start, and his day officially began.

The first thing he did, after his sheet-washing ritual, was to put on his cleaning gear, which also resided in the laundry room. A loose pair of drawstring pants, a t-shirt, an apron, a pair of gloves, a pair of boots, and an anti-bacterial mask later, Hans picked up his bucket of cleaning supplies and headed to his bedroom.

First things first, he checked his bed closely to make sure there was no bed-bugs. As normal, there were not, but he did a thorough spray-down just in case.

After that, he wiped down every surface in his room: The headboard and legs of his bed, his nightstand, the clock on his nightstand, the lamp on his nightstand...etcetera. Then, came the dreaded part.

He walked over to the window, slowly. His breathing beyond his mask was heavy, as he moved the blinds, so that he could clean in between them.

The sunlight shot through the cracks of the blinds, casting lines on his pale face and white clothing. Those blinds were like bars on a prison, the thing that separated his little world from the world outside. Unlike most people though, he enjoyed his prison - in fact, it was the only place he felt relatively calm.

After getting rid of the nonexistent dust on the shades, he yanked the cord, pulling the blinds up. The bright morning light briefly blinded him, before that disgusting world outside came into view.

Tall buildings, factories in the distance pumping their fumes into the air, the steam coming up from the manholes, the dust from construction sites, the thick smoke from those construction machines, the vendors selling their greasy goods that they had been _breathing _all over, and all the damned people. Those people, who kept bumping into each other, sharing all those disgusting particles that lingered around those people. Those people, who were breathing on each other, and some that coughed and sneezed over each other, and were close talkers and animated laughers.

Those people that touched their faces before touching the handles on doors, or the walk-sign buttons, or the ticket booth at the metro, or the sinks in public restrooms (or worse, in that regard), or the handles on the metro trains, and then all those public restaurants, where those people touched all those glasses and mugs to their lips, and the utensils they shoved all the way in, before coming back down, slobber-ridden, to scrape across their plates and bowls. Worst of all, those cloth napkins that were found at fancy restaurants - the things that were only fit for absolute barbarians. Those restaurants thought they cleaned those napkins well, but Hans knew better - he was able to see those streaks, the ones where people wiped those rags across their ugly mugs.

Those disgusting people.

Those business women, those prostitutes, those police officers, those construction workers, those owners of small businesses, those fast food workers, those artists, those musicians, those basketball players, those teenage students, those little kids and babies, and those stay-at-home parents, and those teachers, and astronauts, and technological geniuses, and garbage men, and veterinarians, those criminals, thugs, thieves, those average joes...none of them knew how disgusting they really were.

Hans scrubbed at the window fiercely, as though his efforts could scrub away the filth of society. When the blinds slammed back down, Hans's rapidly beating heart began to slow once more.

He cleaned the vents, then, but only after putting on a pair of goggles - the vents were connected throughout his entire apartment building, and most likely lead to the outside, so they needed to be cleaned daily. Whilst up there, Hans also replaced the filter he had installed.

Hans then glared at his carpet. He had hated the carpet since he had came to live at that apartment, but the landlord would not allow him to tear it up. So Hans shampooed the carpet, only after vacuuming it, before he vacuumed it once more. And after a quick scrub-down of his doorknob, he left the room, heading for the main room.

The main room was a living room, with a kitchenette attached. Though there was more furniture and such to clean than in his room, there was no carpet, so that saved him time.

He sprayed down the couch and chairs (after checking for bed-bugs, of course), and then cleaned his coffee table, table, TV stand, TV, desk, desk chair, everything on the desk, his bookshelf, his counters, counter appliances, and large appliances. After going through the window debacle again, and a quick inspection of the vents, the only thing left was to steam his tiled floor. It was a pretty easy job, and he completed it quickly.

The bathroom was pretty simple to clean: He cleaned the sink, sink counter, toilet, and shower with a roll of paper towels and his normal spray. He scrubbed the inside of the toilet with the scrub brush, and then he steamed the floor.

When he returned to the laundry room, he scrubbed the outside of the washing machine, and the inside and outside of the dryer. Then, the ironing board and it's holder, and his cleaning supplies closet. By the time he was done cleaning that floor, the washer had long-since ceased its cleaning his sheets. He tossed the sheets into the dryer, before stripping naked once more. The clothes (except for the boots and the mask) got tossed into the washer, then. The boots were shoved into a bleach-filled container to soak, and the mask was disposed of.

Hans walked to his bathroom, a freshly cleaned down held loosely in his hands. He closed the door and locked it, before pausing to look at himself in the mirror.

He was pale, thin, and if he were to truly admit it to himself, just plain sickly. There was something just wrong about his appearance, how he seemed to be totally lacking any natural color. The only color that he really possessed was the auburn hair on his head, and the pale green eyes that burned in his skull.

And the raw redness of his scars.

And scars there were, across his entire body. However, the most prominent ones were on his hands. The cause was not an outside one, not at all. In fact, the one to cause such vicious scars...was himself.

Hans turned on the water to full blast, the steam already beginning to rise from the scalding hot water. He grabbed ahold of a bucket similar to the one he held his household cleaning supplies in, only this one held other things: A fresh bar of soap, shampoo, conditioner, antibacterial wipes, a small bottle of bleach, and a wire scrub brush.

He hung the small bucket on bar of his shower, before stepping in and drawing the curtain shut.

**_A/N I hope you are all enjoying this...though I also hope that this is not triggering for anyone. I am trying to make as realistic as I can. After all, I do have mysophobia and OCD, but certainly not as extreme as Hans. Anyway, next chapter Hans gets a visitor. Also, this all takes place before chapter one. You will be able to tell when chapter one actually happens, chronological-wise._**

**_If you have any requests for any Disney-Pixar animated fandom, please feel free to request it of me!_**

**_Thanks for reading and please review!_**


	3. Chapter 3

After Hans dried off, placing a few bandages and wraps where necessary, he dressed. A plain steel-grey suit, white shirt, and black tie. He combed his hair back, allowing a neutral expression to fall dully over his face.

He washed his hands.

He went to the kitchen and washed his hands again and prepared his breakfast: A simple sausage and egg sandwich. He then washed his hands, before placing the plate on the table. The poured a glass of milk, before washing his hands, and sitting down. He picked up the sandwich, about to bite into it, when a knock sounded on the door.

Hans's mouth closed. He slowly set the sandwich down, his eyes trained on the wall.

When the knock came again, he stood up, going over to wash his hands.

He walked to the door slowly. A knock came again. Hans stood before the door, a small frown resting on his mouth.

Another knock.

"Who's there?" he questioned through the door.

"Bro. Open up," a gruff voice ordered.

Hans reached for the bowl that was set on the table near the door. Within it was a pair of gloves. He quickly pulled them on, but still did not move for the door.

"Which one are you?"

There came a snort, before the voice answered, "Frederick."

Hans still didn't move. "Are you alone."

A sigh. "Yes, Hans. I'm alone."

Hans moved forward, opening the door minutely. Compared to the darkness of his apartment, the false lights of the hallway were extremely bright. Slowly, as he became used to the brightness, a dark form appeared.

Frederick. Hans's oldest brother. The man looked exactly how Hans's father used to: Tall, muscular, tan, thick dark hair with hints of grey, and a five-o-clock shadow that never ceased to exist. In other words, he looked the exact opposite of Hans.

"Can I come in?" Frederick asked, after several moments of the two men looking at each other.

Hans immediately shook his head, closing his door. He slipped on his shiny business shoes that were set by the door, before opening it once again and stepping out.

Frederick raised an eyebrow. "Apparently not."

"I just spent the entire morning cleaning my apartment," Hans muttered, seemingly annoyed at Frederick's being unable to understand. "I don't want you coming in, and messing everything up."

Frederick opened his mouth, as though to say something, but he closed it once more.

There was more awkward silence and staring. Finally, Hans asked, "Why are you here?"

A small smile came to Frederick's face. "Well, dear brother, I have use of you tonight."

"Meaning?" Hans deadpanned. Frederick's smile faded away.

"A rather famous company we are partners with - the Arendelle Company, to be exact - has come under new power."

"Oh?" Hans asked, disinterested.

"Elsa, Elsa Snow. Heard of her?" Hans looked up from the floor (he had previously been studying) at the name. Frederick smirked. "Thought you might've."

"What do you want?" Hans ground out.

"She's having a...ball of sorts, tonight, in celebration of her being the new head. She's young, after all, and a woman at that. She invited all Arendelle's partners to it, including the Southern Isles Group. However, all of those that are higher up already have previous engagements."

"All of you," Hans said, in disbelief.

"All of us," Frederick nodded.

Hans eyes gained a suspicious glint. "All twelve of you are busy tonight."

Frederick threw his hands up. "Hey, it's a busy job, heading each of our sectors!" After regaining his composure, Frederick adjusted his tie, a vicious glint finding itself at home in his eye. "But of course you wouldn't know that, would you?"

Hans's jaw tightened, his gloved hands clenching into fists. To someone observing the scene, it would look like Hans was about to deck his older brother. However, that changed in an instant.

Frederick reached over, patting Hans solidly on the shoulder, leaning in close. Immediately, Hans's eyes widened in fear, flinching from his brother's touch. His grey skin seemed to pale further, as shakes echoed through his hands.

His shoulder burnt.

He felt sick.

Frederick merely raised an eyebrow. "You're still freaking out over stuff like that?"

Hans squeezed his eyes shut, pushing back against his door. He wished he could push so hard on it, that it would swallow him up. He wished he would be swallowed up forever, in an isolated place where no one could find him, and he would not have to deal with the disgusting world and all its inhabitants.

He felt sick.

He needed another shower.

Hans felt his entire body shaking and sweating. His hands shaking and sweating.

He needed to wash his hands.

Frederick watched as his brother wrapped his arms around his midsection, his expression cool. Finally, he said, "Enough with the melodrama already."

Hans's eyes opened, staring at his brother.

Frederick could not stand the look in Hans's eyes, in that moment, for he looked away, a hand flitting up to push back his hair.

There was silence.

Frederick finally looked back at Hans. His younger brother seemed to have regained some of his composure, for he was once again standing without assistance from the door. However, the paleness that had taken over Hans still remained.

Frederick opened his mouth, before it closed once again. Finally, he sighed. "The party starts at 7 o'clock, in the lobby of Arendelle's headquarters. It's a black tie affair, which I don't imagine will be a problem."

Hans's lips pressed together, before he shook his head minutely.

Frederick spoke once more, after a brief hesitation. "Try to make a good impression, alright." He lifted his hand, to set it on Hans's shoulder once more.

When his brother flinched like before, he thought better of it, allowing the arm to fall back at his side.

"Well. See you around, then..."

Hans watched as Frederick walked away, before he entered his sanctuary and prison once again.

**_A/N I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Next chapter, a few other characters are introduced! Fun, right?!_**

**_If you have any requests for any Disney-Pixar animated fandoms, feel free to tell me about them!_**

**_Thanks for reading and please review!_**


	4. Chapter 4

"Please!"

"No."

"For one night?"

"No."

"Come on, I'm begging you here!"

"No."

Elsa slammed her head down on the large desk in front of her, her hands coming to clasp behind her head, tangling themselves into her white-blond hair. The man standing in front of her merely raised an eyebrow, looking mildly amused.

Finally, Elsa Snow raised her head, annoyance clear in her eyes. "I order you to be my date tonight!"

The man snorted, before breaking out into outright laughter. Elsa's jaw quivered as she gritted her teeth.

Finally, the man's laughter trickled to a halt. "You...order me...?"

Elsa huffed, sinking down into the chair.

"Babe, you can't order me to do anything."

"I know," she grumbled, before sighing and placing a hand on her forehead. "Yeah...I know."

The man smiled goofily, leaning against her desk. Golden hair, sun-kissed skin, and puppy-dog brown eyes that could melt your heart...in addition to a tall and muscular body sheltered from the world by a casual suit...he was any woman's dream-date.

However, the reason for Elsa asking the man to be her date for that night was not because she liked his looks. That, in fact, was not even close.

"Kristoff..." Elsa mumbled, the hand resting on her forehead flitting down to rest on the leg of the light-blue pantsuit she was wearing. She leaned forward imploringly. "Kristoff, please. I really need a date for tonight!"

Kristoff brushed the hair out of his face slightly. "Need, or want?"

"Need," she growled. "Do you think I would actually be asking you if having a date wasn't necessity?"

Kristoff rose both of his eyebrows at that. "Ouch."

Elsa sighed heavily. "You know what I mean."

Kristoff pushed away from the desk, instead settling down in the chair in front of it. He brushed his hair out of his face again. "Alright, I'll bite. Why is it necessary for you to have a date?"

Elsa's hands once again bunched up the fabric of her pant legs.

"Don't you think..." she began, before shaking her head. "Meaning to say..."

"Why don't you just go with Anna-"

"Impossible!" Elsa exclaimed, lunging to her feet. Her eyes were wide with panic.

Kristoff blinked, seemingly unfazed by the sudden outburst. "Why?"

"What?" Elsa responded ineloquently.

"Why can't you just attend the party with her?"

Elsa sat down slowly, bringing her hands up to rest on the top of her desk. Out of habit, Kristoff's eyes darted down to look at them, before rising up once again to meet her eyes.

"You're a doctor," Elsa stated unnecessarily. "You don't understand...the complexities and all the different sorts of dynamics being in this business entails. Already, I'm at a disadvantage being as young as I am, and a female at that!"

Kristoff rose an eyebrow. "You've never let any of that stuff effect you before."

"Even so..." Her hands squeezed together. "Even so, going with Anna..."

"She's your assistant," Kristoff began. "It wouldn't be unexpected or questioned-"

"You just don't get it, Kristoff! Now drop it!"

Kristoff looked at her dully, before he stood. "Right. I don't get it."

Elsa sighed. "You know I didn't mean-"

"Didn't you though?" Kristoff gave her a sidelong look as he headed for the door to her office. He paused halfway there, though. "Do you believe your circumstances to be any more troublesome than that of any one else?"

Elsa bowed her head.

It was in that moment, that the door opened and a woman entered. She had bright red hair tied back into a bun, and a green dress suit that was in great contrast with it. In spite of her formal appearance, the casual way she held herself and the large smile plastered on her face made her seem very unbusinesslike and friendly.

"Yo!" she exclaimed, shooting a quick peace sign to Kristoff, before stalking fully into the room. "Elsa! Some dude is here, asking about an interview...or something like that." The young woman brought a hand up to her ear, listening to her earpiece. "Yeah...and he's pretty insistent."

"Just..." Elsa began, before sighing, allowing her head to thump forward on her desk. "Just...give me a minute, Anna."

Anna jutted her hip out to the side, placing a hand on it. "Oh, don't act like that. I'm just "assisting" you."

Elsa pushed her head up, giving Anna a tired look. "That particular discussion will have to wait until later. I'm in the middle of a very important meeting-"

"Actually, I was just heading out," Kristoff gently interrupted. Both Elsa and Anna's eyes were drawn to him.

Immediately Anna's hands jumped to her hair, tugging at her bun. However, in her attempts to straighten it out, she only managed to get her hans stuck in the hair sprayed mess.

Elsa briefly glanced at Anna, before her head dipped down, a sigh passing her lips. "Anna...you remember Dr. Kristoff Bjorgman..."

"You betcha...I mean, yes, of course I do!" Anna yanked her hands free from her hair, causing it to stand up on end oddly. She immediately stuck out her hand, firmly taking Kristoff's and shaking it vigorously.

"And...Kristoff...my assistant...Anna..." Elsa said haltingly, trying to keep from dropping her head back onto her desk.

Kristoff smiled pleasantly. "Nice to see you again, Miss Anna."

Anna blushed deeply, retracting her hand so that she could fiddle with her hair once more. "Hahaha! Oh yeah, yeah...so..."

Kristoff nodded at her, that kind smile still on his face, before he made for the door. He twisted the doorknob, opening the door. However, as he stood in the doorway, he turned around once more, his eyes meeting Elsa's.

"About tonight...I understand." Elsa perked up, whilst Anna looked between the two, obviously confused. "I will...accompany you."

Elsa jumped to her feet, a wide smile stretched across her face. "Th-thank you so much, Kristoff!"

The man nodded briefly, before he headed out.

Immediately Elsa and Anna drew to the door, watching as the tall doctor made his way through the office.

"So what was that about?" Anna questioned Elsa, her eyes still trained on Kristoff.

Elsa glanced at Anna. "He agreed to be my date for tonight."

"Lucky," Anna muttered. Kristoff pressed the down button on the elevator. Whilst waiting on it to arrive, he stretched, the sharp lines of his shirt tightening over his body. Anna sighed dreamily. "Such a...lovely specimen, don't you think?"

Elsa turned to look at Anna once more, at the smile on her face, at her slightly messy hair, at her wide and beautiful eyes.

"Yeah," Elsa said, smiling slightly. "Lovely indeed."

**_A/N There! Are ya'll happy! Elsa/Anna interaction. *kicks "This is Ice"* damn you! Now that's all people want from me!_**

**_Thanks for reading and please review!_**


	5. Chapter 5

Hans gripped the sides of his sink, watching the remainder of the water resting in the bottom swirl down the drain. He squeezed his eyes shut.

He briefly considered calling Frederick, telling him he couldn't attend...but then his brother would make fun of him, calling him a coward - something he was not.

However, the thoughts of the people, and all the people, and the _people_.

Hans released the sink, bringing both hands up to clasp over his mouth. Before he could become sick, though, his phone rang, interrupting him. He glanced over at it, wishing it silent and himself peace. However, upon seeing the caller ID, he dropped his hands, and answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Why hello, little brother!" an obnoxious voice exclaimed. Hans yanked the phone away from his ear, checking the caller ID again. Slowly, he brought it back.

"Where's Dmitri, Georgie?" Hans asked, sounding slightly frustrated. The voice on the other end laughed.

"Right here, seated right across the table from me," Georgie chuckled.

Hans didn't say anything in response.

"We're in Los Angeles. And the ladies, Hans, are lovely, if you didn't know that already. Ever been?"

There was a beat of silence, before Hans said, "Why are you calling me?"

A brief hesitation, before a bubbling laugh. "Meaning to say, why am I calling you from Dmitri's phone?" Hans didn't respond, but Georgie continued talking. "Well, I knew you wouldn't pick up if it was my phone number that came up. And anyway, Dmitri came with me here (to keep me out of trouble, so he says), so I snatched his phone."

"Meaning to say," Hans muttered, "why are you calling me?"

It was an odd thing, for any of his brothers to take time out of their days to call Hans, let alone Georgie. Georgie was a few years older than him, but he was very immature, only ever caring about himself. Needless to say, Hans despised Georgie.

Dmitri, on the other hand, was his fourth eldest brother, and probably the only brother Hans actually liked. Unlike his other brothers that either ignored him or relentlessly picked on him, Dmitri actually acted like he semi-liked him...which was good enough for Hans, considering his eldest brothers neglecting of him throughout his entire childhood.

Dmitri was not lovey-dovey by any means...but he was less judgmental about Hans, at least.

On the other end of the phone, there was a bit of rustling around, before an aristocratic sounding voice came through the phone. "Frederick called us."

Hans blinked, rather surprised. Usually if Hans was assigned to do anything, no one else was usually informed. Getting in good with the new owner of the Arendelle Company must be a bigger deal than he thought.

There was rustling once more, and Georgie's voice was back. "You are lucky, bro, very lucky. I hear that Elsa chick is a looker!"

Hans jumped as the phone on the other end was dropped, a smack and near silent scolding coming from Dmitri. The phone was picked up once more, Georgie's whining echoing in the background.

"This is a very important business venture, Hans." Hans was about to state that he was quite aware of the fact, when Georgie and Dmitri fell into an eerie silence. Finally, Dmitri spoke once more. "Are you up for it?"

Hans's eye twitched. It was so typical, his brothers thinking he could do nothing - a fault Dmitri possessed as well. "Yes, I believe I can handle it," he mumbled tersely.

"Are you sure?" Hans was about to raise his voice at his brother - an occurrence that was very rare - when one more word was uttered. "Hans..."

Any cutting remark Hans was about to shoot at his brothers died in his throat. The way Dmitri had said his name...so tenderly, so gently, so pityingly...

His jaw clenched.

Georgie took the phone back, and his voice drifted through. At least it sounded like Georgie...except there was something in that voice that Hans refused to believe was a bit of worry.

"Bro," Georgie began, "Frederick told us about your little freak out-"

"I did not "freak out"," Hans interrupted, his voice tense.

Georgie continued, undaunted. "Whether you did or not, is not the issue. We know how you get around large crowds of people - it's the reason that we allow you to work from home, for the most part."

The phone was snatched away by Dmitri. "We're just worried that being around that many people, with the likelihood being rather high that you'd get touched...that it might...well..."

"Cause you to freak out," Georgie cut in.

Hans clenched the phone in his hand tightly. "I conduct myself nicely in public, thank you."

"_When_ you are in public."

"Meaning?" Hans growled.

When no response was forthcoming, Hans once again spoke. "Explain what you meant by "when I am in public"."

"Hans..." Dmitri began gently, however he was cut off almost immediately.

"Hans, you have a problem."

The youngest of the brothers was speechless, shocked into silence by the audacity of that declaration. He opened his mouth, but Dmitri's voice cut in quickly.

"Hans, you have to admit-"

"I do not have to admit anything!" he whispered threateningly.

"You can hardly leave your house, your body is one giant blister, and you can't hold a civil conversation with your own brother without getting terribly upset that he touched you!" Dmitri said, raising his voice. "Hans, you need help!"

There was silence, then, on both sides - most likely due to the fact that the calmest of all their brothers had raised his voice.

The phone was then taken by Georgie, for it was his voice, lacking its normal arrogance and loudness, that spoke the words that caused Hans to loose it once more.

"We're just worried about you, bro."

A fire bubbled up within Hans, though his voice remained soft and calm. "You're worried about me."

As though sensing Hans's impending eruption, both Dmitri and Georgie began speaking at once.

"You see-"

"Hans, we're just-"

"You're worried about me," Hans repeated. Then he laughed.

The laugh built up slowly, before becoming a booming roar - the type of hopeless laugh people watching the world slowly destroy itself utter.

And then abruptly, it cut off, leaving behind a harsh silence.

Dmitri and Georgie appeared to pull the phone away, checking to see if they were still connected.

Hans's voice came then, low and throaty. "That worry...is it for me? Or the fact that the Southern Isles's partnership may suffer from my attending the party?"

"No! That is not it at all!" Georgie yelled furiously.

"Why would you even think something like that! We're concerned about you - all of us!"

Hans smiled bitterly, shaking his head. "Where was that concern, then, when I was younger? When I was being ignored or harassed constantly? Where was it before I was useful, and was only your little brother?"

Before they could respond, Hans slammed his phone shut, dropping it back to where it had been sitting on the counter.

Then he backed up against the opposite wall, sinking to the floor.

"Where was it?"

**_A/N I have no idea how long this is, though it feels pretty long...either way, the party should be in the next chapter, if not the chapter right after that...but I'm not making promises. I write how I write, and that's...all...right? Never even mind. XD_**

**_Thanks for reading!_**

**_Please review!_**


	6. Chapter 6

In spite of the many different emotions Hans had swirling within him, Hans managed to get ready for the party. After all, this was work - he could not let something like his brothers' "concern" affect the business.

He bathed once more, the stress from that morning's meeting with Frederick - as well as the phone call with the other two - having made him feel like he needed to.

After once again brushing his teeth, and styling his hair and sideburns, Hans began to dress.

He once again put on a full suit, though this one was less casual and more formal: It was rich, rubbed velvet in fabric, with the lapels being made of the smoothest of silk. The shirt beneath the jacket was the purest of white, with the thread count being so high that it felt like wearing air. Hans's tie was as midnight black as the tux, and fell flawlessly over his chest.

He looked at himself briefly in the mirror, making his face fall dull and emotionless, before he headed for the door - after washing his hands, of course. Once there, he repeated the ritual he had completed earlier that day, carefully toeing on his polished black shoes, and pulling on his gloves. Then he gripped the doorknob, and exited his apartment.

As he made his way to the staircase (he hated using the elevator), he thoughtfully tugged at the gloves, making sure they were secure.

The gloves fit his hands perfectly - so perfect, that they actually relieved some of the anxiety he often felt about venturing outside. Regardless, it was still a mental challenge he had to overcome.

"You look lovely," the woman at the front desk remarked - not unlike every other time he made to head out. However, he nodded, thanking her all the same, before standing before the revolving doors.

The setting sun was the backdrop to the bustling city before him. The buildings that appeared in various shades of golds, whites, and grays during the day were all fading into a monochromatic black shade, lights popping up in windows from the lowest floors to the highest ones. The daytime traffic was diminished, though the nighttime traffic was starting to make itself known. Fluorescent lights glowed in their unnatural shades, hurting Hans's head.

He took a deep fortifying breath into his lungs, before proceeding forward. He focused mostly on breathing as shallowly as possible (in wanting to avoid breathing in the contaminants the city produced) and the light tapping of his shoes against the concrete.

Hans did not have a car, though he could definitely afford one. He did not even take the readily available taxis or the Metro - due to obvious reasons.

Instead, he walked places.

The air was thick and uncomfortably tense, as though it could not decide whether to be hot or cold that day. No walk anywhere surrounded by buildings and people was a pleasant affair for Hans, but that night was just a little worse than normal.

Several blocks, several minutes later, Hans stopped, glancing up at the building. It appeared to be no different from any other office building in the city: Large, with large windows and a large man guarding the door. However, what was different was the groups of fashionable people mulling about, working their way inside the building. The sign fastened above the door (written in gilded, Old Nordic lettering), read "Arendelle".

Hans sighed slightly, only hesitating a second before he proceeded forward. The man at the door stopped him briefly, questioning who he was.

"I am Hans Westerguard," he proclaimed evenly.

The large man surprised Hans, by jutting our his hand, offering it to Hans for him to shake.

"Kai, at your service. I take it you're from the Southern Isles brood?"

Hans stared at the hand perhaps a bit longer than was considered normal. Still, he did not take it. "Yes. I'm the youngest."

Kai's hand slowly lowered, his face flashing briefly in what one might consider offense, before the friendly expression returned. "Well, it's nice to have you here. I'm sure Miss Elsa will be pleased to meet you."

Hans nodded, quickly making his way past the man, into the lobby.

The lights hand been dimmed down from the brightness they probably gave off during the day. Soft music played from somewhere, as people milled around, eating the food offered on the buffet and chatting with one another.

Hans did not hesitate, in making a beeline for one of the corners of the large room, his face slowly paling with every step he took farther into the crowd.

Eventually, he stood there, in the corner, a solitary figure that looked like they would rather be anywhere else but there. Sweat ran down his pale face, as he fought to calm his breathing and rising nausea.

Hans squeezed his eyes shut, leaning back against the wall. He hated being so close to so many people, with all the possible things that could make him disgusting. He HATED it.

How could his brothers do this to him?! They knew he had issues, when it came to being around people, to being out in public. Did they really hate him so much?

So lost was he, in his thoughts, he did not notice the couple when they approached him.

"Are you alright?" A voice like silk wormed its way into his mind. Hans's green eyes flashed open, and immediately he stood at attention (though he was clearly unaware of his surroundings.

Before him stood a young woman. Her hair was the lightest blond Hans had seen in a long time, the color of it seemingly just a shade off from white. Her eyes were electric blue and she wore a fancy evening gown to match. It seemed to fit her perfectly, being a nice mix of elegantly conservative and daringly risque.

Though the woman was enchanting, Hans's eyes were drawn from studying her to studying her partner for a much longer amount of time.

The man was tall, definitely taller than Hans. He was strongly built, with wide shoulders and a solid barrel-chest. He was quite clearly fit, though, his smooth muscles just barely visible through the stiff lines of his suit. Lightly tanned skin, almost caramel-colored, contrasted nicely against the man's feather-like golden hair. The hair swept across the man's forehead perfectly, the a-bit-too-long ends just barely gracing his eyebrows. Bright eyes, dark brown and shimmering like a puppy dog's, starred Hans down, a bit of uncomfortable-ness in regards to the long time Hans's eyes had been trained on him.

"Are you alright?" the gentle voice asked again. Hans broke out of his stupor, quickly looking over to the woman once more.

"Yes," he choked out, abhorring the way his voice wavered ever so slightly.

Her face, though briefly concerned, quickly flitted back to the stoic look with the small smile on her lips. "Are you sure? One of my employees, Gerda, trained as a nurse-"

"I'm fine," Hans said quickly, putting a little too much stress on the second word.

The woman blinked before blushing and holding out her delicate hand. "Where are my manners? I am Elsa, the new head of Arendelle."

Hans felt himself pale even further than the sickly shade of white he already was.

**_A/N Sorry for the short hiatus, and sorry for the cliffhanger. But hey! More incentive for you all to review! (hint hint, wink wink, the more you review, the faster the updates come, elbow elbow)..._**

**_Thanks for reading, and please review!_**


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